


what does that make me

by iiiOpheliaiii



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Organized Crime, Slice of Life, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiiOpheliaiii/pseuds/iiiOpheliaiii
Summary: His window has a city view, like He Tian’s, but the view’s not like He Tian’s. Instead it faces another apartment block, grey and streaky. The sun, even today, doesn’t get into his room. Through the wall he can hear the neighbours singing and he’s glad he’s going out, they’re always so fucking loud.
Relationships: He Tian & Mo Guanshan (19 Days)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	what does that make me

It’s so hot his shirt is sticking to him, not just in places but the entire thing. He can’t take off his jacket because he knows he’s sweated through the white fabric underneath, so he’s gotta sit there, melting. He feels like his whole face is just wet, his hair dripping over his forehead.

It’s fucking gross and he hopes no one’s looking at him.

The exam paper is so completely undoable that having to sit and wait is pissing him off. He’s scribbled something on each page and that’s gonna have to be it. He’s thrown down a number in each answer space and he knows they’re all wrong but he doesn’t want to leave it totally blank. And now he’s just gotta sit for like an hour.

He can see the dust motes swirling about in the air, illuminated by the sunlight pouring in from the high windows.

They’re all in the gym, the entire year, all the desks spaced out. He lets his gaze wander – it snags on a head of black hair.

It’s the girl who lives down the block from him, Chunhua. She’s done, like him.

They’re gonna go drinking later, his friends and her friends, in the shitty underpass that no one goes through.

He’d been super into her back at the start of the year. She’d been kind of into him and then they’d made out once but it had been severely awkward and that had killed his interest.

He wants to ask He Tian, but He Tian’s always gotta make things into such a big fucking deal. He wouldn’t just shut up and drink, he’d start being insane and saying cryptic gay shit and then he’d probably fuck Chunhua which would piss him off beyond belief. Or maybe he’d kill one of the guys with like his bare hands.

He Tian’s weird as shit. He can’t believe people think the bastard’s cool.

He starts drawing on his hands, writes _fuck you_ across his fingers. Chews his pen.

Zones out and thinks about what he’d do if he won a million yuan. Eventually manages to sink into that blissful space where he’s just sitting, not thinking.

There’s about an hour left of the exam when he’s dragged back into the realm of thought by the swing of the double doors opening. He looks up, along with practically everyone else, to see two men in suits stroll in.

Inspectors? But the only thing that matches is the age. One of them’s wearing a gold chain. Both are wearing thick, gleaming watches. Their shoes are shiny and their expressions are bored. The teacher whose been stuck watching them practically runs over to them, whispering rapidly, anxiously darting around the steady force of them. She’s too small for them to notice, really. They don’t answer her, just walk until they’re in the very middle of the gym, facing the whole year. They don’t seem to notice the two hundred or so teenagers all gawping at them.

“He Tian,” one says, the younger one, with the shitty bleached hair, and he doesn’t yell but after so much silence he might as well have. Guan Shan and every one else swings around to stare at him. It’s like a dumb movie.

He Tian just stares at the men, mouth open, stricken for a second before he starts shoving shit in his bag as quickly as he can manage. He’s gone white. Guan Shan, even from several rows away and in front, can see how badly his hands are shaking, because it means he keeps fumbling, awkward in his desperation to hurry.

A pencil falls off the desk and bounces under someone else’s. A sheet of paper floats gently to the ground. Both are left, along with the exam paper still on his desk. Then He Tian stands and grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, doesn’t even close his bag, and just starts walking, eyes down, shoulders tight.

“Excuse me, sir, but He Tian’s doing an exam! Is this really necessary?” the teacher tries.

He Tian doesn’t even walk towards the men, he just takes the shortest way to the doors and then he’s gone. In the stunned silence Guan Shan can hear his footsteps going down the hall.

“Apologies for the interruption,” it’s the younger one again, all smooth and then they’re gone too and the whole thing is over.

What the fuck.

“All right, everyone, get back to your tests,” and she’s not fooling anyone as she walks too fast to He Tian’s desk with everyone watching her, takes his paper with her face flushed red.

For probably the first time in his life Guan Shan realises she’s only young and also a person, and definitely hates this. He feels a novel sympathy.

The remaining hour is fucking excruciating.

The worst thing is that he wasn’t gonna go home tonight, because mom’s friend is staying over after leaving her apparently shitty boyfriend, and also he doesn’t wanna have to pretend not to be shitfaced, so he was gonna ask Li Wei, but then he’d mentioned it at break and He Tian had said he could stay at his, and now he doesn’t know whether to call or just ask Li Wei.

When the bell finally rings, he settles on just calling. Doesn’t get an answer. Fuck it.

They’re gonna get their drink and meet up with the girls later. He and Li Wei are splitting a bottle of baijiu. He’s grown to love the clink of the full, clear bottles of the stuff they down in parks and bedrooms maybe more than he should for his age, the part of his mind that belongs to his mother worries. But the rest of him likes the heaviness of the limbs, the huge grin it drags out of him.

He goes home to change, shower. Peeling his disgusting shirt off himself is an unbelievable relief. His mom’s not home yet, probably still at work. Not him, he’s got the day off.

His window has a city view, like He Tian’s, but the view’s not like He Tian’s. Instead it faces another apartment block, grey and streaky. The sun, even today, doesn’t get into his room. Through the wall he can hear the neighbours singing and he’s glad he’s going out, they’re always so fucking loud.

He’s only home for about an hour before Chunhua calls him. It should be awkward, but they’ve both been living in the same place for over ten years, have known each other since they were five. There’s no room for teenage illusions about the significance of making out.

“We’re going to McDonalds first if you wanna come. Some of the guys are here already.”

“Uh, sure, which one?” he’s pulling on his shoes, grabbing his keys off his windowsill.

“The one outside the subway station near my place.”

“Cool.”

He goes to hang up.

“Oh, and Guan Shan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you get me fags on the way? I’ll pay you back.”

She probably won’t, because she’s the type of girl who doesn’t think she actually has to pay guys back, and she’s right, but he’ll just smoke some of them.

“Sure.”

And with that the important part of the day begins.

He feels kind of bad about how loud they are in McDonalds, but he’s loud himself. It’s a weird feeling, but he basically has it all the time anyway. His mom raised him different to how he is, but it’s not really a choice – he can be bored as fuck or he can be an asshole.

The baijiu is warm, which is gross, but they’re still glad to have it, especially once they’ve already trooped to the drinking spot and sat down on the broken concrete and there’s not gonna be anything else to do.

It goes down easy, despite the warmth and the ethanol burn and he finds himself smiling too much. Finishes his cigarette without noticing himself do it. They get there just before five, and by half five his hands are numb.

By six everyone’s shouting about bullshit and at least two of the guys have disappeared with some of Chunhua’s friends. Changmin’s brought his speaker and the girls are playing tinny K-pop.

“Somebody _please_ change the music,” he’s moaning, unwilling to stand up to do it himself. His legs are forged with the concrete.

By the time the sun sets it’s much colder, the navy blue night lit up yellow by the streetlights, dotted with orange from smouldering cigarette ends.

It’s only at ten, when Liling stands up and giggles, _fuck man, I gotta go home,_ that he remembers that oh yeah, so does he eventually. A lot of the girls leave with her.

“Ah shit,” he mutters to himself, grappling with his phone. Finding his contacts list and calling He Tian’s number is a long, frustrating journey.

He doesn’t think he’ll get an answer, and it rings for ages, but then He Tian actually picks up.

He sounds like he’s downtown, cars and wind and the hum of people chattering in the background.

“What?”

“It’s me,” Guan Shan supplies.

He Tian laughs breathily. “Fucking _yeah_.”

“About staying at yours tonight.”

He hates how that sounds, but some perverse part of him just wants to stay there, simple as that. He has no idea why – it’s like when he hopes people will say something shitty to his face so he can just get mad.

“Oh yeah. Uh, I left the fucking. The spare key under the, the mat.”

“Ok, cool. I’m gonna rob you,” he adds as an afterthought but He Tian’s already hung up and so can’t answer with any psychopathic shit.

He gets to He Tian’s past twelve. He can’t really remember getting there, but he’s talking to Chunhua when he blinks and they’re hugging each other, woah he doesn’t do that, and he’s walking as fast as he can through the city on his own.

He Tian’s building has a code on the gate. It takes him four tries to get it right. He stomps up the stairs, almost keels over kneeling down to get the spare key.

He gets in, leans against the door while he locks it from the inside, fills and drains a glass of water twice, and passes the fuck out on the couch.

When he wakes up his headache extends into his eyes and his jaw. His mouth is dry and gluey. It’s just before dawn, by the look of the light. He can feel the nausea in his throat.

He wakes up because someone’s pounding on the door, constantly, loud like they’re trying to break it down.

“ _Fuck_ , fucking _shit_ ,” he rasps before forcing himself upright. His vision blacks out for a second and when it comes back things are jerking back and forth in front of him.

“ _Ugh_.”

He sways when he stands up. All he wants to do is lie back down, but he needs the noise to stop. It takes too long to unlock the door.

“Al _right_ , I get it, wait a second, man, fuck,” he’s messing with the lock and then finally, fucking finally, the door opens inwards and the knocking stops.

It’s He Tian, wasted.

“Uh, hey,” he flounders, inexplicably discomfited.

“Hey,” He Tian groans, then staggers over to the kitchen area. Guan Shan closes the door behind him, turns to see him filling the glass he’d used last night and left in the sink. The water flows over the rim and over his hand before he manages to turn off the tap.

Guan Shan follows him.

He stinks of whiskey, overwhelmingly, like he’s been bathing in it. He’s not dressed in the school uniform, but jeans and an expensive looking leather jacket, heavy and dark.

Most noticeable are the split lip, the cut above his right eyebrow, the scratches on his cheek. The purple marks on his neck are new too, but Guan Shan has a solid idea of what those are from. He’s leaning heavily against the counter, half silhouette in the dim pre-light. He smiles dopily when Guan Shan gets close to him. His teeth are very white. He goes to take another sip and spill it all down the front of himself instead.

“Dumbass.”

“Hngh.”

“That’s great, thanks.”

He Tian tries to put the glass in the sink but he ends up dropping it just where the sink meets the edge of the counter, which it promptly knocks off of and shatters on the floor.

“For _fuck’s_ sa - ”

“Leave it, it’s fine.” The words all melt and run into each other.

“God, you asshole.”

“My fucking kitchen.”

There’s a moment of eye contact where Guan Shan keeps his mouth shut and thinks of things he won’t say, things that he’s astonished He Tian can’t read on his face.

“Man, what even happened yesterday? What the fuck have you been doing?”

“It’s,” and then a pause for deep thought. “It’s my birthday yesterday. I went out with my brother.”

The syllables aren’t coming out right, more squished together the more he says.

“So everything in the gym, that was for your birthday?” Guan Shan can’t stop the disbelief from colouring his tone.

He Tian frowns a little, shakes his head.

“Uh-uh.”

Something about the helplessness of the gesture reminds Guan Shan of the pale face, the frantic walk out. It makes his chest clench.

“Ok. Well, I’m fucking dying so I’m gonna go back to sleep now.”

He Tian just nods, shows no sign of moving.

“That means you too, or are you just gonna stand here being creepy?”

“I’m not being creepy.”

“Dude, you’re the creepiest person I know.”

He’s not, that’s She Li, but He Tian’s face twists up and he says, “yeah”. It’s the quietest Guan Shan’s ever heard him say anything.

There’s nothing to say to that, so he just takes He Tian by the arm, cool leather under his fingers, and pulls him away from the counter.

They’re about halfway towards the bed when He Tian starts listing dangerously sideways. It would be only fair to let him fall, but he reaches an arm around his back without thinking about it, grips him hard to keep him upright. Gets a pained gasp for his troubles, a quick, sharp inhale through the teeth.

“Stop, stop, stop,” and Guan Shan does, moves his arm away like he would if he’d just stook it onto hot metal. But He Tian’s gonna fall and break his face so instead he lifts an uncooperative arm and drapes it around his own shoulders, practically carries the fucker to the bed and throws him into it.

He dumps him on his back and in return He Tian practically whimpers.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” He snaps. His eyes feel like they’re pulsating.

“Back hurts,” eyes big and pleading.

Guan Shan remembers babysitting some cousin. Decides to channel that, since He Tian will forget this anyway.

“Can you sit up and show me what happened to your back?”

He Tian struggles upwards slowly, like he’s running through water. He’s breathing like it’s painful.

When he’s up Guan Shan takes off the jacket for him, grasps the hem of his t-shirt and pulls that up too. It’s just easier.

He doesn’t realise what he’s looking at, when he’s finally looking at it, a huge shadow of a mark, amorphous and threatening like something lurking under water. He has to turn on the light to understand what it is.

A bearded warrior god, shaded, snarling dragons, curved green lines, a sword. It must have taken hours, covers He Tian’s entire back, from shoulders and neckline to the waistline of his jeans.

For a split second Guan Shan has to resist the urge to touch it, see if the skin feels different. The split second ends.

He’s always basically known what He Tian is. He’s not stupid. But this breaches the surface, hauls the whole blood-soaked mess of it to the top. The scene in school, too. They can’t pretend anymore.

“Arms up,” he hears himself say, then he’s pulling the t-shirt back on over it.

When it’s on he sits on the bed without meaning to.

Is faced with a familiar self-satisfied grin.

“Happy birthday to me,” he drawls.

The look on Guan Shan’s face must be bad, because the grin slips, and He Tian is choking on stifled sobs, big hands flying up to cover his face. He’s curled into himself, trying to be quiet, trying to stop, but that just makes it worse. It comes out as this wheezy keening sound.

Guan Shan wants to ask some higher power, _what the fuck_. Wants to look around for a camera. Maybe wants to be sick. Instead he sits frozen for a moment, swallows that down, reaches out a hand to rest on He Tian’s shoulder, where it meets the neck.

“Man, you’re really drunk.” Softly, like to a dog. “You need to go to sleep.”

A shaky breath. Another one.

“We’ll figure it out later, I promise, ok?”

He Tian nods. Wipes his eyes with the heels of his palms. Won’t look up. Lays down on his side and it doesn’t even take that long for his breathing to even out.

When he wakes up, memory wiped, Guan Shan thinks its kinder to lie. He Tian was always more into the pretending than him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope the names of the background characters are correct, i was picking them from a popular names website, so apologies if they aren't. also apologies if i'm completely wrong about if he tian would be getting a tattoo at all, i've been trying to research it but i haven't found a whole lot. im sort of just going off the drama of 19 days itself here  
> please comment and tell me what you thought, i live for feedback!


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